CHAPTER XIX. DIAMOND'S FRIENDS
Project Gutenberg EPUB3 edition
MacDonald, George
ONE day when old Diamond was standing with his nose in his bag between Pall Mall and Cockspur Street, and his master was reading the newspaper on the box of his cab, which was the last of a good many in the row, little Diamond got down for a run, for his legs were getting cramped with sitting. And first of all he strolled with his hands in his pockets up to the crossing, where the girl and her broom were to be found in all weathers. Just as he was going to speak to her, a tall gentleman stepped upon the crossing. He was pleased to find it so clean, for the streets were muddy, and he had nice boots on; so he put his hand in his pocket, and gave the girl a penny. But when she gave him a sweet smile in return, and made him a pretty courtesy, he looked at her again, and said:
“Where do you live, my child?”
“Paradise Row,” she answered; “next door to the Adam and Eve—down the area.”
“Whom do you live with?” he asked.
“My wicked old grannie,” she replied.
“You shouldn't call your grannie wicked,” said the gentleman.
“But she is,” said the girl, looking up confidently in his face. “If you don't believe me, you can come and take a look at her.”
The words sounded rude, but the girl's face looked so simple that the gentleman saw she did not mean to be rude, and became still more interested in her.
“Still you shouldn't say so,” he insisted.
“Shouldn't I? Everybody calls her wicked old grannie—even them that's as wicked as her. You should hear her swear. There's nothing like it in the Row. Indeed, I assure you, sir, there's ne'er a one of them can shut my grannie up once she begins and gets right a-going. You must put her in a passion first, you know. It's no good till you do that—she's so old now. How she do make them laugh, to be sure!”
Although she called her wicked, the child spoke so as plainly to indicate pride in her grannie's pre-eminence in swearing.
The gentleman looked very grave to hear her, for he was sorry that such a nice little girl should be in such bad keeping. But he did not know what to say next, and stood for a moment with his eyes on the ground. When he lifted them, he saw the face of Diamond looking up in his.
“Please, sir,” said Diamond, “her grannie's very cruel to her sometimes, and shuts her out in the streets at night, if she happens to be late.”
“Is this your brother?” asked the gentleman of the girl.
“No, sir.”
“How does he know your grandmother, then? He does not look like one of her sort.”
“Oh no, sir! He's a good boy—quite.”
Here she tapped her forehead with her finger in a significant manner.
“What do you mean by that?” asked the gentleman, while Diamond looked on smiling.
“The cabbies call him God's baby,” she whispered. “He's not right in the head, you know. A tile loose.”
Still Diamond, though he heard every word, and understood it too, kept on smiling. What could it matter what people called him, so long as he did nothing he ought not to do? And, besides, God's baby was surely the best of names!
“Well, my little man, and what can you do?” asked the gentleman, turning towards him—just for the sake of saying something.
“Drive a cab,” said Diamond.
“Good; and what else?” he continued; for, accepting what the girl had said, he regarded the still sweetness of Diamond's face as a sign of silliness, and wished to be kind to the poor little fellow.
“Nurse a baby,” said Diamond.
“Well—and what else?”
“Clean father's boots, and make him a bit of toast for his tea.”
“You're a useful little man,” said the gentleman. “What else can you do?”
“Not much that I know of,” said Diamond. “I can't curry a horse, except somebody puts me on his back. So I don't count that.”
“Can you read?”
“No. But mother can and father can, and they're going to teach me some day soon.”
“Well, here's a penny for you.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“And when you have learned to read, come to me, and I'll give you sixpence and a book with fine pictures in it.”
“Please, sir, where am I to come?” asked Diamond, who was too much a man of the world not to know that he must have the gentleman's address before he could go and see him.
“You're no such silly!” thought he, as he put his hand in his pocket, and brought out a card. “There,” he said, “your father will be able to read that, and tell you where to go.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” said Diamond, and put the card in his pocket.
The gentleman walked away, but turning round a few paces off, saw Diamond give his penny to the girl, and, walking slower heard him say:
“I've got a father, and mother, and little brother, and you've got nothing but a wicked old grannie. You may have my penny.”
The girl put it beside the other in her pocket, the only trustworthy article of dress she wore. Her grandmother always took care that she had a stout pocket.